A Different Ending
by Banana Belle
Summary: I wrote this for a Lit. project so I decided to post it. It is my version of how the book should have ended.


Chapter Forty-six Revised  
  
My body felt light, almost weightless, as when I was a child and could run and skip and jump with abandon, skimming over the earth, covering great distances through meadows and fields unaware of time or of anything except glorious freedom. There was joy in me, flowing through me, dancing in me, aching for expression, demanding release. Why-the thought came fleeting- had I been so serious so much of the time. What had so many people been so bothered about? But then the joy rushed in to overflow the question.  
  
Light was drawing me irresistibly, dazzling light, refulgent light of a quality I had had but hints of before. The light was up ahead, still distance. But even here it bathed the glen through which I was running in shimmering splendor. The grass was dotted with flowers- I spotted buttercups and the orchid of a fairy fringe and the vermilion of fire pinks, and the mountain bluets like patches of sky fallen into the grass- all of such intense coloration that they did not look like flowers at all; they were explosions of color. I did not understand and longed to pause to examine the flowers more closely. But I could not stop for that now. The light… I must get to the light.  
  
Then I came to some sort of barrier. Not a wall because I could see through it. Not a glass because when I put out my hand I felt- nothing. But I was stopped there nonetheless. Some sort of decision seemed to be required of me. I could go on- or I could stay on this side of the barrier: the alternative was mine. I had been stopped in my joyous dash to make certain that I would pause to consider my choice.  
  
Over there was the light… green wood, green wood, flower-starred grass. The air was crystal. It was as if some sun of suns was glinting of numberless prisms, shattering the light rays, deflecting them, reflecting them so dazzlingly that I had to put my hand up to shield my eyes. Once before I had seen something like this. Oh, yes, now I remembered: that ice world reflecting back the colors of the setting sun, which I had gazed from the train windows. Only this sun was not sinking like that over one, it was in its zenith.  
  
Bathed in its luster, the leaves on the trees, the blossoms on the boughs, the blades of grass did not seem to be lighted from the outside. Rather the light appeared to come from the inside of each object, from its heart, from its nature, so that each leaf, each petal stood apart from all others, living dynamic forces somehow poised in motion, energy in balance.  
  
Something had been stripped from my eyes. I was seeing in a manner I had never seen before. Unbelievingly, my eyes fastened on the colors, the vivid pulsating colors, the riotous intensified colors, drinking them in, feasting on them. All of my life I had cherished color and light, but never had there been such colors or such light, never in all the world. In all the world… I remembered something I had known long ago: For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face…  
  
Now into the scene trouped a group of children and they were playing with the abandon that I felt as I was skimming over the fields and the glens to get here. They were beautiful children, but not with the ethereal beauty of fairies or angels because there were chubby bodies and skinny ones, pigtails and dimples, freckles and snaggleteeth. One raggy-legged boy was whistling. A fat-cheeked little girl, blonde and dimpled, laughter burbled from her, poked the whistler and then dodged and ran. An older girl with nut-brown skin was carrying a baby. One tiny boy tiptoe trying to catch sunbeams in his fists. "Jeter cotch it, Jeter cotch it," he exulted over and over.  
  
I did not recognize any of the children- and yet I did. "Jeter" Where had I heard that name? A scene floated back… The Spencer's front porch, Fairlight's voice, "Jeb and I… lost a newborned gal-baby. Front name was Ceclie. Then Jeter. The was three when he was took bad with the croup and left us."  
  
Just children. Still there was something different… I could feel the love that surrounded them, and out of the love flowed harmony. No discordant note. No dissonance. So the joy of the dimples and the pigtails galloped and cavorted. They were like spirited colts out for a frolic.  
  
And there among the children, right there, was the happiness that all men seek and so few find. The joy of the children… I want the joy of those children. Yes, I will go on. Yes, I want to go. I must…  
  
At that instant I saw her walking along the bank of the stream that flowed under the trees and through the meadows. It could not be! But it was. Fairlight! It was Fairlight… She was barefoot, wearing a gingham dress I knew well a blue plaid one with a wide white collar- Only the gingham had a new texture and the white was as glistening as new-fallen snow. On her arm she was carrying one of those homemade honeysuckle baskets, swinging along with that erect carriage of hers, with the easy grace of a highland princess Why, she looked so happy. Every worry line was gone; no hint of ant shadow across her face now. The texture of her skin, like the gingham cloth, was different too- smooth as silk, glowing with vitality. I could not take my eyes of the beauty of her features- so serene, so confident.  
  
She had not scene me. I wanted her to see me. Fairlight… Beloved Fairlight! I started to call out to her but something held me back.  
  
Now she was running lightly toward the children in the meadow, toward the brown-skinned girl. The baby held out her arms to Fairlight. She took the baby and cuddled her. And then with the baby still in her arms, she sought out Jeter and took him by the hand. The three of them went back to the stream where she put the baby down on the thick carpet of moss.  
  
She was kneeling now, planting on the bank of the stream- of all things- lady's-slippers, gorgeous snow-white ones with lips of brilliant pinkish-purple. As she worked she was singing softly "The Green Bed" that haunting ballad of rare loveliness that I had so often heard in the Spencer cabin:  
  
O come you home, dear Johnny,  
  
O come you home from the sea?  
  
Last night my daughter Polly  
  
Was dreaming of thee…  
  
Her hands, those red worn hands were beautiful now. Soft and white they were. As she burrowed in the dirt and tenderly mounded the earth around each plant, tamping it firmly, the light danced on her moving fingertips, splintering into diamonds reflected in the water, tossed back into the air, caught in her hair.  
  
"Fairlight! Oh Fairlight- I'm almost there. I'm coming. We'll plant them together. We'll…"  
  
From a great distance someone was calling my name. The voice was familiar. Who's…? I did not want to hear it. The voice was weight pulling me backward, drawing me away from the light. I would ignore it. I had to go on. The decision was made.  
  
But over and over the voice called my name. No matter how I tried to stop my ears, I could not ignore it. Why? Why could I not go on? There was something in the voice that pulled me back. Now I recognized it, in the voice there was love too, like that I had seen among the playing children. There was pulling power in that love. But the weight, the awful weight. I did not want that earth-bound weight along with it.  
  
Fairlight still had not seen me. She had finished the planting. The lady's-slippers stood up straight with heads erect, as if they had always grown happily in that spot. And then Fairlight and Jeter waded into the stream, splashing, skipping from rock to rock, as she and I had often together. The more they splashed, the more the baby lying on her mossy bed kicked her feet and moved her tiny hands and gurgled. I started longingly wanting to be there beside them.  
  
Then I knew. Suddenly I knew and bowed my head with knowledge. I had to go back. The light was not for me yet. Not yet. But sometime. Oh, sometime! Fairlight, you will wait for me, won't you? Won't you? Fairlight. The weight, the weight. The fading light…  
  
I was heavy, so heavy, my eyelids were leaden. They would not open. The familiar voice, a man's voice, very soft. He was talking to me, calling me. "Christy, Christy, you've got to come back to me. Christy, wherever you are, listen to me… Christy I love you, love you, love you. Christy can you hear me? Down in your sprit at the depth of you, do you hear what I'm saying to you? I love you! You cannot leave me without knowing this. Christy…"  
  
And then the tone of the words changed. "Christy I need you. I know you wanted time, and I tried to rush you into marrying me. God, please you are love. I know that, but I need Christy. The bedclothes muffled a man's sobs. I wanted to comfort the man in some way. I tried to lift my hand, but it was heavy. Still my eyelids would not open. The voice went on. "Lord God, you are the creator, I am the created. I am helpless, as helpless as all other men are. As a minister I thought it knew most everything, but I know nothing. So I over back to you this love you gave. It's all I have to give you, God. Here are our lives, hers and mine, I hold then out to you. Do with us, as you please." The voice fell silent.  
  
So his voice was the voice that called me back, David's. He needed me. He loved me. He loved me like that. I was so foolish to let go of that. I truly loved David all along, I was just afraid to love him.  
  
There was a warm glow in the room. Warmth came into me, starting at the top of my head and flowing steadily downward, into my brain. Into my face, my eyelids fluttered open. Familiar objects in the room came into focus. He was still there beside my bed, his head sunk on the covers, one hand stretched out with a Bible clutched in it.  
  
And still the strength and the warmth flowed into my chest, along my arms. I could move my fingers now. I felt across the counterpane until my hand reached his, the big hand with the brown hairs on top. My fingers closed over his hand and gripped it. His head came up.  
  
"Christy!"  
  
The joy of the children was in his voice.  
  
Chapter Forty-seven  
  
  
  
Days past, I became stronger and stronger. By the end of the week I was well enough to walk round. At first I always took short walks around the mission house with David. I had to beg him to let my walk alone; he reluctantly agreed but watched me like a hawk from the front porch. Most evenings we would sit on the porch together under the stars. The school year had been officially delayed until winter, when the new teacher was coming. This would be my last evening in Cutter Gap. Tomorrow David and I were walking the journey to the train station in El Pano. My parents wanted me to come home, and I thought it was about time they met David seeing as we were engaged. I had finally said yes to the question that David had asked me so many months ago. I still don't understand why I hid my true feelings from David and even myself. Was I afraid? It doesn't matter now, nothing does except for the love I feel for David.  
  
David's laugh interrupts my thoughts. "Christy, I've been trying to get your attention. Are you of in dreamland again?" He asks. "It's getting late, I think you should go inside now." David walks me to the door and gives me a goodnight kiss. From the window, I watch him cross the yard to his cabin. I climb the stairs to my room. It will be my last night sleeping in this room. When I first saw this space I thought to be nothing special but now things are different. This room, this house, has been my home for nearly eleven months. I have spent almost a full year of my life here in Cutter Gap. I think about this as I drift off into my last Cutter Gap sleep.  
  
I dream of that special place were Fairlight is waiting. But I also dream of a different place. I have never seen this place before. I'm sitting on the porch swing of a comfortable house. I see David, but not the David I know. He is older, so I am I. He is playing baseball in the yard with four children, two boys and a girl. There is another girl a one younger watching from her seat on the grass.  
  
I watch the game.  
  
"Ready Tommy?" David asks the smaller boy.  
  
"Uh-huh," Tommy nods his head.  
  
"I don't like being the out fielder!" The girl says stamping her feet.  
  
"Sarah quit being a baby," the catcher tells her.  
  
"Ethan be nice to your sister. Sarah you can catch after Tommy bats." David tells them.  
  
Sarah sticks her tong out at Ethan, and he returns the gesture. The pair continue a face making contest and lose interest in the game. Tommy swings, hitting the ball hard. It flies over Sarah's glove and hits the little girl in the grass on the head. She immediately begins to sob. David runs over to her.  
  
"Ethan go get a chunk of ice out of the ice box," David orders. He runs towards the house passing me as he goes inside.  
  
Why didn't he see me? I begin to wonder. But then I look back over at scene. David is now walking toward the house with the little girl in his arms. "Bella it's all right, everything okay. You just have a little bump," he tells her.  
  
"I want Mommy," the girl cries.  
  
"I know, we all do. She will be back soon," David reassures her.  
  
"Catherine too?" Bella asks.  
  
"No, remember Catherine is going to be going to college. She is going to live at the college." David answers.  
  
"I want her to live here," Bella sobs.  
  
"I know you do," David says brushing her hair back.  
  
"Here's the ice Dad," Ethan says holding out o hunk of ice rapped in a dishtowel.  
  
"Thank you Ethan. Why don't you go help Tommy and Sarah pick up the baseball equipment?"  
  
"Sure," Ethan says and runs to join his brother and sister.  
  
David makes he way up the porch steps still holding Bella. He opens the screen door and steps inside. I follow him into the house. The living room has hardwood floor and although the room in large there are only a few pieces of furniture. Some I recognize from my home in Asheville. But the house where was this house? I continue to look around the room. On the piano were several pictures. I picked one up it was a wedding picture, the groom was David and the bride was me. I looked beautiful and my dress was gorgeous. The little ribbon flowers, the lace…  
  
I wake up and look around the small clock in my room reads 5:03. I get up and change into one of my warmest dresses. Miss Ida and David are already in the kitchen when I go downstairs.  
  
"Good morning Christy." David says cheerfully.  
  
I sit down beside him. Miss Ida gives me a nasty look. She is still upset about me taking David away from her. We eat breakfast and pack everything into the wagon. I feel like I'm leaving home, just as I did when I departed from Asheville for the first time so many months ago. This place was my home. The ride to El Pano doesn't seem long enough, and soon I'm sitting on the train with David. I realize I have just ended another chapter of my life, but by doing so I have begun another.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Epilogue  
  
June 12, 1972  
  
  
  
My mother told me her story over many years; each time I would find out another part of her history, my history. I'm glad I could share this special story with you. I have received many letters asking for a sequel to Christy. But the true story of Christy only takes place in those eleven months in Cutter Gap. I will how ever share this epilogue with you.  
  
As you read in the final chapter of Christy, my mother had a dream. That dream was very accurate. I am the oldest of five children. My siblings' names are Ethan, Sarah, Thomas, and Isabella. There is such an age difference between my siblings and I because they are adopted. I was the only biological child, not that it matters. My parents were missionaries all over the world during my childhood. We have lived in seven different countries and twenty-two different states. Although we did live in Ohio for five years, the four years I went to high school and the proceeding year.  
  
I went to college and became a journalist, while my siblings did many other remarkable things. Ethan became a minister like my father, Thomas served in the military, and Bella became a teacher. The reason Bella and I had the courage to go and get jobs while most girls just found husbands and got married was because of our mother. You may have noticed I didn't mention Sarah, well she also made a live for herself. Sarah became a movie star. That's right if you've ever seen anything starring Sarah Grantland-Hughs that's my sister and Christy daughter.  
  
Christy lived I full live she died on April 2, 1967 at the age of 76. My father died ten years before but don't you cry because they weren't together until the very end. Their love lives on through Ethan, Sarah, Thomas, Bella, and I, and through the novel "Christy." Each time a new person reads the book, my parent's love is passed on. Not just my parents love, but the love that all people have for each other, and love that God has for all people.  
  
  
  
Yours truly,  
  
Catherine Grantland Andrews 


End file.
